“Just continue walking, darlings,” Mama said, her face a picture of religious devotion. She had Alyosha by the hand, or by the look on his face I might have suspected he would go over and break the band conductor’s baton.
We went on to the church, but the massive funeral was taking place not far away, in the midst of a broad avenue of trees that led right to the front of the palace. The speeches of the local Soviet drowned out even the words of the priest in the church. The familiar prayers mingled with increasingly angry, loud cheers, saying, “Down with the imperialist murderers! Death to the old regime!”
It was very hard to concentrate on the service. I saw Colonel Kobylinsky, the new commander of the palace guard who had come to aid Korovichenko, and Colonel Grooten exchange looks of alarm. The service was about to end, and we had to walk back to the palace. We would have our usual guards around us, but even with their weapons they would be no match for an angry mob of thousands.
As if in protest at the confusion of ceremonies taking place that day, the sky all at once grew as dark as night, and the wind began to blow so hard the shutters banged. The priest stopped chanting and crossed himself. We all stood in silence and listened.
At first the noise of the crowd continued. But after a few tree branches cracked off and thudded to the ground, we heard a general panic and the sound of people running away. Soon there was no music, and no more speeches. The priest crossed himself again and gave the benediction.
Fortunately, we had all worn fur coats over to the church, as the day was unseasonably cold for April. That hardly prepared us, though, when we emerged from our worship into a blizzard. We hurried home to the one parlor that was warm enough in the sudden chill. Everyone was invited to stay to tea.
“I don’t know what might have happened if the snow hadn’t come so swiftly,” Colonel Kobylinsky said. “The mob in the park was very angry.”
“Amen,” Mama said, and sipped her tea.
As the weather continued to warm and the last bits of ice and snow vanished, we got permission from Korovichenko to plant a kitchen garden. We all spent hours digging the soil and planting seeds. People from the surrounding villages would come and stare at us working like peasants on our own little plot of land. I thought how the old gardener—heaven knew where he had gone—would have been horrified to see his flower beds turned over and given up to cabbages, potatoes, peas, and beets.
One day, just as the green shoots started to poke through the soil, I looked up from my weeding to see Sasha coming over to the detachment of soldiers watching us. He spoke to one who had just rolled and lit a cigarette, which dangled insolently from his lips. The fellow frowned but did not remove his cigarette, only hoisted his rifle carelessly over his shoulder and sauntered off. Sasha took his place. I tried not to watch him, but I could see that despite whatever he’d been doing to try to blend in with the revolutionaries, he had not lost his military bearing. He couldn’t quite slouch as lazily as the others. He held his head too upright; he was too accustomed to standing at attention to achieve that careless look the others wore. And the black patch over his eye gave him an air of authority that I thought some of the men grudgingly respected. I was proud of him, and I longed to run to him and lean my head on his shoulder again—my head with its short fuzz of hair that was growing in tight curls. I wondered what he might have become in the old world, whether he would have risen to be a captain and then a colonel, perhaps even high enough in rank to—
“You there! You’re missing all the weeds! You’d starve if you had to do for yourself on a farm.” It was one of the other guards, who pointed to the beginning of the row I had just gone down, weeding distractedly. He was right. I had left many behind. Another of them said, “She’s mooning over her sweetheart. She doesn’t care about cabbages!”
This struck all the men as terribly funny. I felt myself blush.
“She’s embarrassed! But I don’t see why. Her sweetheart’s dead.”
Without thinking I looked directly at Sasha to reassure myself that he was still there. I caught him staring at me sadly before he turned and pretended to laugh with the others. Of course they meant Rasputin. It made me sick to think they could joke about someone whose body they had exhumed and desecrated. Mama found out, as I knew she would, the day after it happened. She just looked gray and tired, as though no one could tell her anything that would shock her ever again.
I returned to my weeding, but I was distracted. Why was Sasha here? Did he have a message for me? Had he found a way for us to meet again? It was too much to hope for.
I had to wait until it was time for us to go back inside to find out anything. The guards positioned themselves to escort us to the palace. Sasha stood so that he was near me. I still hadn’t told anyone in the household that I knew him. I just was not certain enough that I could really trust him yet.
“Keep moving!” said a gruff voice, very close to my ear. I turned and glared, only to see that it was Sasha. I was so shocked I stopped. “I said, keep moving!” he repeated, this time shoving me a little.
“Don’t touch my sister!” Alyosha cried out, and Zhilik hastened up to take my arm.
“It’s all right,” I said. “No harm done.”
“I shall speak to the tsaritsa about this,” whispered Zhilik to me. “He shall be removed from the guard!”
“I don’t trust that fellow with the patch over his eye,” Alyosha said, taking my hand. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
I doubted Mama could have any influence over who was guarding us now, and I had felt Sasha use the instant of contact with me to put something in my pocket. The last thing I wanted was for Sasha to go away, and so I said, “It’s all right, Alyosha. He’s just guarding us. And please don’t make any trouble, Zhilik. I’m fine, and it’s not worth it.” I glanced at Zhilik, hoping my look could convey that I was serious. “Please!”
He nodded. I hoped the incident was forgotten by the time we sat in the small parlor for tea.
CHAPTER 19
Later that night, while Mashka was having a cold bath before going to bed, I unfolded the scrap of paper Sasha had put in my pocket.
We have to meet. There’s something important I must tell you—it concerns your entire family. Come to the cellar again at about a quarter past midnight. I’ll meet you in the same place.
It was nearly midnight already. Mashka was still weak, and usually fell asleep quickly. I hoped that night would prove no exception.
I was already in bed with my nightgown on over my clothes when Mashka returned. She lay down, but did not turn off the light. Instead, she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “I think you’re hiding something from me,” she said.
My heart stopped beating for an instant. “What do you mean?”
“It’s something about that guard, the one who shoved you today. I feel as though I’ve seen him before.”
I had to think quickly. How much did I dare tell her? It was torture keeping everything a secret, yet the more she knew the more it would endanger her—and risk even more people finding out. I wanted this secret to be my burden and no one else’s. “Perhaps he was a guard at the palace before everyone ended up mutinying.”
“Don’t evade me, Nastya. You’re not good at lying. I want to know.”
I paused. I couldn’t think what to say. And then, perhaps because at that moment the burden became just too heavy, I found I could no longer keep my silence. “His name is Sasha.”
“How do you know his name? Where did you meet him? He’s not from a good family, I imagine.”
“What is a good family now?” I asked. “He was my friend before and he is still.”
“Your friend?” Mashka asked. “Why don’t you introduce him to us?”
“It would be dangerous. For him,” I answered. “He used to be in the Semyonovsky. I met him in the garden. I have his balalaika. You remember, I asked you to send him a message when I was sick.”
Mashka was silent for
a while, staring into my eyes until I had to look away. “You’re blushing, Nastya. You like this soldier, don’t you?”
“Yes!” I cried. “Is that a crime?” I could barely stand to hold in my feelings anymore. All the sorry hopelessness of my situation—of our situation—burst over me in a wave. All through my illness, through our dear friends being arrested and our own captivity I had been in too much of a daze to think about what it really meant. And the hope Sasha had given me, that perhaps there would be a way out, teased me into not feeling so desperate and alone. But now, a crack opened in my heart. I felt the pain in my throat, pain I had not felt since I was a little girl and wept bitterly when Alyosha was sick and no one could make him better. I buried my face in my pillow and let the sobs rack me until I could only take shuddering gasps of breath.
When I looked up, Mashka was sitting on the edge of my bed, stroking my short curls. “You have your clothes on under your nightgown. You’d better tell me what you’re intending to do.”
I sat up quickly. “I’m not running away! No! I would never leave the rest of you. That would be like dying.”
Mashka took a deep breath and let it out in a relieved sigh. “Thank God. I was sure you were planning to go off with your handsome guard, your Sasha, and we’d never see you again.” A few tears dripped down her cheeks. She cried easily ever since her measles.
“No. Not that. But I have to meet him tonight. You won’t tell the others? It’s important. He’s trying to help us.”
Mashka looked away for a moment, doubtless trying to decide what was right to do. “All right. I won’t say a word. But if it looks as if you are being put in danger by this … young man, then I will break my promise.”
I kissed her. She felt thin. There were still deep circles under her eyes. “Go to bed.”
“Wake me when you return,” she said, closing her eyes as she slipped between the sheets. She was deeply asleep within minutes.
I heard the bells in the Tsarskoe village church strike midnight, and then waited for the last chime to die away. Mashka’s knowing made it easier to get out of bed and leave the room at least.
I practically flew down the now-familiar route to the cellar, my ears pricked up, listening for any sound that could mean discovery. But the palace was quiet.
This time, Sasha was already there when I came in. Without thinking about it, I ran to him and flung my arms around his neck. He wrapped his around me too and buried his nose in my short hair. I could feel his heart pounding, and felt as though my own matched his, beat for beat. Perhaps, I thought, if we stayed like this long enough, we would merge into one person.
But it seemed only an instant we were so close. Sasha took hold of my shoulders and held me away from him. “I had to see you, to make sure you were all right.”
“Yes, yes, of course I am. Oh, Sasha, I’m so glad you are here.” I threw myself at him again, and this time he pressed his whole body against me and moved his cheek on my fuzzy head. I felt his hands exploring my back, feeling the bumps of my spine and tracing it up to my neck and down as far as it went. I gasped. He took hold of my face between his two hands.
“Do you even know that you’ve become beautiful?” he asked. “You’ve grown so pretty. Prettier than any of your sisters.”
Prettier than my sisters? Even Tatiana? I felt a glow creep up from my stomach and make my heart beat faster. I never thought I was pretty. I shook my head to make sure I wasn’t imagining anything. I wanted him to repeat what he said, but at the same time I didn’t want him to speak. I saw his face coming toward mine. I lifted my chin, wondering, knowing what would happen next. When his lips touched mine I wasn’t surprised, and yet the feeling was so unexpected I couldn’t breathe. Then I felt his tongue dart between my lips more and more insistently, forcing my teeth apart until our mouths were greedily joined.
I don’t know how long that kiss lasted. While we explored each other’s mouths, I was no longer a captive in a strange, topsy-turvy palace, surrounded by invalid and convalescing people and guards who looked as if they wished we would simply vanish and let them get on with their real business. And Sasha—why had I not realized before then who he might become to me? True, he was the only young man I ever really became friends with besides my brother. But how did it happen that we were suddenly so connected? Connected to the point that I couldn’t imagine being close to anyone else. Sasha taught me so much. He gave me a glimpse of life outside our enchanted world that I never would have had, and that I believe helped me understand more than anyone in my family what was going on all around us. Somewhere in the timeless space that existed before my father’s abdication, before the change in our status, he had become my secret life.
The kiss ended at last. We started to speak, no more than two inches between our faces so that every now and again we could interrupt the words with a gentle touch of the lips. I had a deep, pleasurable feeling. I felt light-headed, barely attending to what he said.
“There is a plan to move you,” he said.
“Move me where?”
He kissed me before saying, “Not just you, your family, you goose! To Moscow. To the Kremlin.”
“Will you be with us?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I have to be very careful how I ask. No one must guess how I feel about you. About your family, the tsar.”
“How do you feel about me?” I asked. I think I knew it was a dangerous question. Tatiana and Olga had gossiped enough about their beaux in the regiments for me to know that a girl should act aloof, keep a young man guessing, if she wanted to retain his interest. But this was different. This wasn’t flirting and dancing. This was real.
“Oh, Nastya! Times are so uncertain. The provisional government is now being shaken, and it seems that the Bolsheviks might seize control. Now all the powerful people are radical socialists, not just moderate reformers, and they take a very hard line about the monarchy.”
I pulled away from him. Was it possible that he didn’t realize what had happened with us? The actions of his body contradicted his words. He tightened his grip on me. “You didn’t answer me,” I said. I had to know, whatever it cost me.
He shook his head. “What good would it do for us to say we’re in love? I think I’ve been in love with you ever since you were too young to know what that meant. When the revolution came, when I realized that the army was turning against the tsar, my only thought was of you. I thought of joining the monarchists, so that I might fight to restore your father to his throne, but I could see that way was doomed.”
I heard only scraps of what he said after the words “we’re in love.” It wasn’t those three words that I had dreamed of in my girlish fantasies, ya tyebya lyublyu, I love you, but close enough. Close enough in a time of such turmoil. I stopped his mouth with a kiss. At first he resisted, then he kissed me back, harder and more passionately than before. I let his hands rove where they wanted to, over the curve of my bottom, around to cup my small breasts. I could barely breathe.
He spoke the next words into my ear, sending a pleasurable tickle down into my belly. “Nastya, I need to tell you. The English won’t have you anymore. The only way left is to escape in secret, perhaps to Finland or Switzerland.”
I was lost in the feeling of his words, so that it took a little while for me to understand their meaning. He had told me something important. Vital. “They won’t let us go at all? What are they planning to do with us?” The jolt back to reality made my head spin.
“I don’t know. If they move you to Moscow, it will be more difficult for you to get to Finland.”
The border of Finland was only about seventy miles from Tsarskoe. Moscow was hundreds of miles to the southeast. I remember thinking that Finland seemed like part of Russia, and yet different, far away. “I did as you said. I found the hidden gate. It was locked and guarded.”
“I know.” For a few minutes we did not speak. He knew? Why did he have me do something so dangerous then? I heard a mouse gnawing on something in
a corner of the cellar, and somewhere a wooden board cracked as it settled. It was May, but the nights were still chilly. “I shouldn’t have asked you to go. I just didn’t know whether I would have a chance myself, and that the explorations of a child would be more understandable than if I started nosing around.”
“So you think I am a child?”
He wrapped his arms around me again. “No. Not a child. But not quite a woman.” We embraced again, but this time he did not let his hands wander over my body. I felt rather than heard him sigh.
“I’m old enough to know what love is, truly,” I whispered.
“Are you? Love is suffering.”
“My brother suffers, and I love him.”
“It’s not the same. If times were different, I would never have done what I did this evening. I would never have dared speak to you so frankly.”
“So it’s the speaking that worries you! Not this…” I kissed him.
He laughed. “That most of all, of course.”
“So you wouldn’t have fallen in love with me if we weren’t in such trouble?”
“I believe I would have. But I never would have approached you.”
“Why not?”
“You need to ask, Grand Duchess?” He tweaked my nose.
Yes, of course. He would not likely have ever been introduced to us in society. He wasn’t from a high-enough-ranking family. I briefly wondered if Olga or Tatiana had ever been kissed the way Sasha kissed me. I doubted it. And I knew Mashka had not, because she would have told me.
“So, maybe I’m glad that Papa isn’t the tsar anymore.” As soon as I said the words I felt ashamed. How could my moments of pleasure in any way make up for what had happened? Yet in some way, they did. “When will I see you again? Tomorrow?” I asked. I couldn’t bear the thought of time going by before I could feel myself surrounded by the protective warmth of Sasha’s body.
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